» Player Information;
Name: Heather
Personal Journal: ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png) adeolucror
Time zone: CST
Contact:
( AIM ) | adeolucror
( PLURK ) | canmaketheshot
( E-MAIL ) | adeolucror [at] gmail
Current Characters:
Akihiko Sanada (tobestronger) from Persona 3
Fenris (lyriumspecter) from Dragon Age
Gambit (playsforkeeps) from Marvel 616
Sephiroth (wutaiwarhero) from Final Fantasy VII
Thomas Raith (prodigalvampire) from the Dresden Files
» Character Information;
Fandom: WildCATS
Name: Cole Cash [Grifter]
Canon Point: End of Wildcats Vol. 4, Issue 7
History: [Here]
Personality:Cole is crass, brash, and impulsive while exhibiting a ruthless streak coupled with a clear (if not off-kilter) moral code, intense sense of loyalty, a deep-rooted desire to be loved. Having once been the leader of a covert-ops squad, Cole is quite capable of planning out a sting operation or assault, and he’s not adverse to dedicating the time to planning required to plot out every conceivable angle before going in. Once in the field, however, he things on his feet, and is a very intuitive fighter, easily adapting his tactics as well as his thought processes to the opponent he’s currently fighting. This bleeds into his personal life as well. He can roll with the punches with the best of them, as he well should have to, being a mild-mannered human in a house full of superpeople. At times he can come across as a stick in the mud when it comes to methods of attack, tending to stick to tried and true methods to get the job done at the end of the day. As these methods tend to revolve around shooting and/or blowing things up, then tend to work pretty well, but he can adapt that to the situation as well, being perfectly willing to shoot the fuel silo instead of the tailing glider to bring it down.
He’s not above killing someone or conning them to achieve his goals, and hesitation never stills his trigger finger if someone’s standing between him and what he needs to get done. He’d never hesitate to spin a situation to his advantage, either, even if that means lying, or cheating the person in question, and if that fails, he wouldn’t object to capping them. That is, unless they’re an innocent. Even in the face of getting paid a considerable amount of money to pull off a job, he’d never hesitate to defer the payment to anyone who was caught in the crossfire. It gets him odd looks from his mercenary buddies, but he really couldn’t care less. In short, chaos and mayhem, while his bread and butter and no where near sometimes foods, are only fun if innocent people don’t die needlessly (that doesn’t mean that slaughtering monsters and/or the bad guys are ever placed in the “needless” category).
Cole’s been allied with a few groups in his past, but the group he is most loyal to (being the one that’s screwed him over the least, which isn’t saying much) is the WILDc.a.t.s. Every group he’s ever been allied with has fit into his mind much like a surrogate family. Whenever he’s involved with a group, be it Team 7, I.O, or the C.A.T.S., he throws himself in 100%. He’s unerringly loyal to them, up to and including taking bullets for team members, but that’s not to say his loyalty is completely blind. He’s left the team twice before, and both times involved the team making alliances with groups or people he couldn’t agree with. He takes these situations very personally and views them like betrayals. That being said, even though he has separated himself from the C.A.T.S. in the past, he still expresses ties to the groups during his voluntary separation, referring to them for compensation for his destruction of property. The C.A.T.S. are his family, or as he puts it, the only family he’s got left. Sure, they’re made up of a bunch of parahumans, human/alien hybrids, kherubim, and one incredibly self-righteous android (who likes to withhold important information from him), but he doesn’t see them as anything other than the people they are.
This loyalty also makes him fiercely protective of those around him, and even more so if he harbors feelings for them. Zealot, an ex-lover, while a bitch who treats him like crap for no good reason other than the fact that he’s a man and thus less than her and he understands that their relationship never really meant anything to her, he would still save her, would still take a bullet for her (and has on more than one occasion, even though Kherubs are exponentially tougher than humans). He’s intensely protective of both Savant and Voodoo, the former being like the little sister he never had (he can’t even bring himself to say the word Penis around her) and the latter a close friend that might have been, in some other reality where Spartan didn’t exist, a love interest.
Love is something that Cole perpetually fails in. At this point in his life, he’s almost accepted it as a fact that he’ll never have nice things. Between Zealot, who was and is married to the Coda to a point where nothing else is more important to her than her code; Spartan, who’s first and highest priority has always been Priscilla and Cole accepted when they first met he’d never have a chance competing with that; and Majestros, with whom Nemesis is smitten. He resigned to all of this, and the crap jobs he’s reduced to, even going to far as to consciously say “this is just my life.” Because of this, and all the other things in his past (his father, his step-father, getting drafted into the military in order to avoid federal prison, genetic experimentation at the hands of I.O, fighting Daemonites, having his legs crushed, the list goes on), Cole has a very jaded and cynical outlook on life. More than anything, though, and what keeps him going, is a strong desire and hope that one day, he’ll get the girl, instead of constantly being put in the friendzone with everyone he takes an interest in. He wants to be wanted and needed, a warm place to lie his head at the end of a long day, and a soothing voice to make the nightmares that plague his dreams fade away into an unimportant haze. He wants a place, and a person, he can call home.
His sarcasm and sometimes callous comments can seem venomous at times, but even through everything the C.A.T.S. have faced, he’s never lost his faith in humanity or in his friends. He trusts them to stick with him through thick and thin, just as he would with them. To spite his tendency to shoot first and ask questions later, he’s not a complete idiot and is fully capable of thinking things through if need be. He’d never hesitate to jump into action if the situation called for it, and he’s always got the team’s back, right in the thick of things with all the superhumans. Even if he would rather be having a brew at a bar somewhere. Friends come first, in Cole’s book. Always.
Skills | Powers:Guns: Cole is a master of various firearms, from pistols to sub-machine guns and even gatling guns. While in Team 7, he earned the moniker “Deadeye” for his marksmanship, and has yet to find a rival. His babies remain his twin PPV30s, which fire proto-matter packets that can be adjusted to different damage frequencies varying between stunning to armor-piercing blasts that could pock-mark a tank.
Explosives: Being a fan of “blow it up”, Cole has an impressive knowledge of explosives: grenades, bombs, plastic explosives, and more improvised fireworks (such as shooting a fuel tanker, or less largely, Molotov cocktails)
Martial Arts: Cole was trained in hand-to-hand combat while working with I.O. but received intensive Coda training from Zealot. Even still, he prefers keeping on the end of a gun.
Swords/Ceff blade: As mentioned above, he received Coda training from Zealot (the only man ever given the honor) and thus knows his way with a blade nearly as well as with his guns. While he can hold his own, even against multiple opponents, wielding steel, it’s not his preferred method.
Intense Research Skills: If there’s a way to find someone on the internet or through searching through archives, Cole will find it. It was something he learned organizing missions for his team in I.O. and he puts it to use almost everyday working for Halo. He has moderate hacking skills also.
While having been genetically altered during the Genesis process and having gained impressive psionic abilities, through training, Cole has suppressed them to the point that he can’t even use them. He can, on automatic reflex, pull a very strong psychic shield but it’s a passive trait and not something he can control. He ages a lot slower than an unaltered human as well, but is no more durable and possesses no heightened stamina. In short, Cole has the physical limits and durability of a highly trained human being.
First Person Sample:
[Accidental Video]
[ The feed cuts on at first just showing a skewed view on the pier as the ferry pulls to a stop, it’s skeletal pilot pointing in the direction of the tablet, and land. The ferry’s other passenger, tall, broad shouldered, wearing commando gear and a healthy amount of ammunition to compliment the guns clearly strapped to his hips under a forest green trench coat, looks down slightly to the cloaked figure gesturing. ]
Thanks for the lift, but I think ya missed my stop. I’m pretty sure this river isn’t the Hudson, and this ain’t New York. Not even what’s left of it.
[ Unsurprisingly, the skeleton doesn’t have anything to say, but gestures again, more insistent this time around. ]
Look, I get I punched my ticket to hell a long time ago, pal, but I was hoping to cash in a little later, if you feel me. [ But he rolls his eyes and follows the gesture, stepping out of the ferry and on to dry...pier. Then he turns, back to the device, and begins to speak. ] So, that’s it? No welcoming committee? Where’s my- [ And he stops because...the ferry’s gone. ] torture team...? [ And he finishes his witty retort to himself. ] That’s what Hell’s for, right?
Right. Places to go, people to take to their eternal torment. I get it. [ He compliments the last statement with a sigh and reaches into a coat pocket to pull out a smoke and a lighter even as his eyes land on the tablet and narrow slightly. That doesn’t stop him from lighting the smoke, though, for taking a drag before he picks the device up. ] So this is what Rattles was pointin’ at.
Third Person Sample:
We’ve decided we’re joining Majestros. This decision was actually made hours ago. Given the circumstances, we think it’s best you don’t join us. How could she just walk out like that? He moved to the table of the rec room, picking up the wraps there and began the methodical process of binding his fists. Maybe Reno was right. Maybe it was just that, Majestros called and she listened. It didn’t matter that Jodi had gone too. He hardly knew the girl, and he didn’t really know what her angle was. Generally, Cole left all the hard thinking to the leaders and just followed where the shots were called, anyway.
But that didn’t ease his mind at all when it came to Charis. After everything they’d seen Majestros was capable of, after all he’d done, and now with his new ‘Save the world through a better, more perfect tomorrow’ bit, how could she just go back to him like that? She hadn’t seemed too keen on it when he’d shown up at Headquarters two days ago, aiming to steal their tech and throwing out rules about his engineered society.
One in which Cole had no place, he remembered pretty clearly. Come on, Charis, he thought. Get a clue. That guy doesn’t want a girlfriend. He wants a broodmare. That’s all. He heaved a sigh, securing the wraps and sliding on his trusty boxing gloves, turning his gaze to the unfortunate punching bag hanging from the ceiling. The gloves were a known weight, a comforting pressure across his knuckles.
When you looked out across the Los Angeles skyline, it looked like the rotting grin of a defecated corpse. The air choked you if you were out in it too long, not the sickly sweet scent of ozone, but the bitter and acrid stench of stagnation and death. The streets, once avenues crowded, stared cracked and broken toward a burning, too hot sun. The world had ended. It was over, and all the C.A.T.S. could do was hold on to the threads of humanity left in it. Hell, it was their responsibility. It was sort of our fault. Another sigh.
The world was shit and everyone was skating out the door. Maybe he could almost understand the promise of a future that wasn’t full of stinking death and choking wind. Well, all except the part where he wasn’t invited. Though, there was a part of him that said he shouldn’t be surprised. What was that Zealot had said once? That’s right. He was nothing but trailer park trash. Hell, Majestros too, just a hired gun with sociopathic tendencies. Yeah, he thought, I’m too violent.
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